"In Heaven's name! what's all this?" cried Wood. “I am sorry,” he said slowly. On her lapel was an ivory button, bearing the words “Votes for Women. He fancied that the turnkeys had discovered his flight and were in pursuit of him,—that they had climbed up the chimney,—entered the Red Room,— tracked him from door to door, and were now only detained by the gate which he had left unbroken in the chapel. I'm not particular what or where. She found herself struggling with a storm of tears. And this is not France, you understand. Then with an indescribable relief her feet were on the pavement, and she was being urged along by two policemen, who were gripping her wrists in an irresistible expert manner.
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